


Right and Wrong

by Malley



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Arno Dorian (mentioned) - Freeform, Assassin's Creed database, He's such a jerk but it works for him and I love it, Pierre Bellec (mentioned), Shaun being Shaun, Snarky Shaun Hastings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 18:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15177128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malley/pseuds/Malley
Summary: While on the run, Shaun drags Desmond out to have some "Assassin-style" fun, which includes brawling scholars in a secret basement dungeon. Inspired by the database entry in AC: Unity about the Bellec debate. Rated T for a few instances of swearing.





	Right and Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Reading Shaun’s entries in the database in AC: Unity was priceless. I love his humor. My sister and I came across this little gem and I knew I had to write this. This is my first foray into writing Assassin’s Creed-plus my sister and I have played them out of order and haven’t played all of the games yet-so please excuse any moments of OOC. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the installments of Assassin’s Creed or any of the characters.

** Right and Wrong **

**  
** _Rome, 2012_

“So, where are we going again?” Desmond Miles asked.

“For the millionth time, we’re going to do some research with some Brotherhood scholars,” Shaun Hastings replied. “How did you not get that in the hundred other times I’ve told you that?”

Desmond groaned.

“Because I don’t get why it’s necessary!” he kicked a broken piece of cement from the cracked sidewalk with his shoe. “Why can’t I just go back into the Animus to do research? You know, play around as Ezio a little more?”

“Because,” Shaun said. “It’s important. I mean, unless you don’t want all of that crucial information you’ve been relying on via the database in your travels back in time-”

Desmond’s response was an annoyed grumble, indirectly admitting to Shaun that he was right and his database information had come in handy a time or two.

“Besides,” Shaun continued. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

“Dude, I’ve been on museum and scholarly field trips all throughout elementary, junior high and school, not to mention what my parents made me do to study up on my assassin ancestors,” Desmond explained. “That shit is boring. And having to read and listen to it in Italian? Even worse.”

Shaun threw a smirk over his shoulder behind him at Desmond.

“Boring? Not the way I do things.”

“How do you do things?” Desmond asked.

The two rounded the corner and walked a little ways further toward an old brick building with ivy climbing the exterior. The concrete lettering on the archway above the entrance simply read “Libreria.” There was a sign hanging on the door that proclaimed the library open, so Shaun ran up the steps to the doorway, Desmond dragging his feet behind him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Shaun remarked, hand on the door handle.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“That’s one of my best qualities!”

Desmond followed Shaun into the library, the only sound in the primarily empty building coming from their squeaking sneakers against the glossy wooden floors. An elderly lady with crisp white hair and reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose glanced up from her work at the librarian’s desk and focused her sharp blue eyes on Shaun and Desmond. Shaun gave her a nod as he and Desmond walked by and the librarian returned the gesture.

“Been here a lot, I take it,” Desmond whispered to Shaun.

“Oh yeah, this place can get pretty rockin’,” Shaun replied.

“This is a library. The only time I can imagine this place ‘rockin’,’ as you say, is if an earthquake hit.”

Shaun ignored Desmond’s remark. He led the way through the library, walking through the lines of wooden shelves filled to the brim with books. Shaun slowed his stride when they reached the History section. Passing by another one or two shelves, Shaun motioned for Desmond to follow him down a row of bookshelves. He skimmed the row of books at face height, Desmond watching silently behind him.

“Looking for something in particular?” Desmond asked after a moment or two.

Shaun did not respond. His hand stopped in front of an unremarkable looking navy blue book with gold lettering on the binding that said “Brotherhood.” Pulling the book off of the shelf, Shaun pressed it against a space on the wall, fitting it perfectly like a key and lock. A barely audible click sounded, followed by a small section of the wall popping open, resembling a hidden passageway that might be found in a haunted mansion or historical castle.

“Well shit, it is a key,” Desmond mumbled.

“Of course,” Shaun said as he returned the book to the shelf. “We can’t just let anyone back into the secret Brotherhood library, now can we?”

“Secret Brotherhood library?”

“Shh!” Shaun hushed Desmond. “We don’t want to announce the library’s location to the whole world.”

Desmond held his hands up in mock surrender. Shaun pushed the rotating door open and motioned for Desmond to enter. Once they were both inside, Shaun closed the door behind them, it once again sounding with a soft click. The doorway led to a small landing at the top of a wooden staircase that descended down into a basement room.

“Great. The Brotherhood library is located in a pit of doom,” Desmond said with a sigh.

“It’s actually pretty cozy down here,” Shaun said, skipping down some of the steps. “C’mon.”

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, the two men came face to face with a solid oak door. To the right of the door, jutting out of the wall was a keypad. Shaun’s fingers danced upon the keypad as he entered the code. With the code entered, the door unlocked. Shaun pushed it open and he and Desmond headed inside.

Desmond was admittedly surprised when he followed Shaun into the secret Brotherhood library. It didn’t resemble a basement dungeon that a serial killer might have, as Desmond originally pictured when Shaun first mentioned the secret basement room. Instead, it was closer to a kind of ivy league college library. Rows of sturdy wooden bookshelves carrying various books and scrolls dating back to ancient times lined the shelves. Several spacious desks and tables were neatly organized in parallel rows, majority of the seats occupied by men and women, people whom Desmond could only guess were the Brotherhood scholars Shaun said they would be studying with. Paintings and tapestries depicting famous Assassins, including the likes of Altair and Ezio, hung on the stone walls, illuminated by candle lit chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Shaun whispered to Desmond.

Desmond listened to Shaun with one eyebrow raised.

“And I’m going to say that phrase why?” he asked. “Plus, are they gonna understand English? I don’t know a word of Italian.”

“Most of our scholars are polyglots, since the Brotherhood is all over the world. Just go sit over there and do it,” Shaun said before scurrying over to the opposite side of the room, disappearing into the bookshelves.

With a sigh, Desmond took a seat at the desk that Shaun had indicated to him. It was silent in the basement while the scholars were absorbed in whatever work they were currently doing. Peeking out from behind a bookshelf, Shaun gave Desmond a discreet wave before disappearing back into the library again.

“What’s he up to?” Desmond murmured to himself, leaning back in his chair.

He waited, staring up at the candles in the antique black metal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above his head. Desmond’s head snapped forward, turning in the direction of the bookshelves, when he heard Shaun’s voice ring out.

“Bellec was wrong!”

As if they were synchronized swimmers, several of the scholars’ heads whipped up from their books and scrolls and stared in what direction they perceived the voice to have come from. One of the scholars slammed his hands down on the desk and popped up in his chair, sending it skittering backward a few inches.

“Bellec was right!” the scholar declared with a growl.

Another scholar seated at the desk in front of the first turned around in her chair to face him.

“Nope. Bellec was definitely wrong,” she said.

“I agree with Peterson,” a third scholar remarked from across the room. “Bellec was absolutely right.”

“Boy, are you wrong!” a fourth scholar piped up. “Just as wrong as Bellec!”

The formerly silent room erupted into a shouting match of dueling arguments, “Bellec was wrong!” versus “Bellec was right!” Of course, being part of the Brotherhood, several of the scholars got out of their chairs and started disputing their beliefs via hand-to-hand combat. Desmond slipped out of his chair and darted to safety behind some of the bookshelves, narrowly avoiding a hidden blade to the arm. Behind the bookshelves, he nearly ran into Shaun, who was watching the spectacle through some space in the bookshelves with a grin on his face.

“What the hell just happened?” Desmond asked, trying to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart.

“Remember how you said you wanted to get out and have some fun?” Shaun said. “Well, since our options are currently very limited, I thought bringing you to a Brotherhood scholars throw-down would have to suffice.”

Desmond turned around and peered through the spaces in the bookshelves, same as Shaun. He watched the various brawling scholars fight each other, including a wrinkly old lady who landed a kick to the groin of a towering young man. Shaun and Desmond both winced at the sight of the man grasping his pained privates, but burst out laughing at hearing the old woman tell him to “Suck it, sonny! That’s for Bellec!”

“So, I take it this has happened before? The whole ‘Bellec was wrong’ versus ‘Bellec was right’ debate?” Desmond said as more of a statement of fact rather than a question.

“Oh yeah, lots of times. I was doing some research into one of the assassins from the French Revolution, Arno Dorian, who was Pierre Bellec’s disciple. The scholars I was working with nearly got into a fist fight debating Bellec’s philosophy regarding the Brotherhood. I was intrigued by how heated things got, so I decided to mention it again during another afternoon of research. Lo and behold, the same result. However, I learned that if you time it just right and can do it anonymously so no one knows who threw the first verbal punch, you can get some good old-fashioned nerd fights outta them!”

“Surprised you haven’t joined in, Shaun,” Desmond remarked with a smirk. “This seems like something right up your alley.”

“Nah,” Shaun shook his head. “I have more fun starting riots than participating in them. Plus, I could get hurt in one of these rumbles.”

“And you really want to be an assassin?”

The two men ducked as a scholar was thrown back against the bookshelf they were hiding behind before he slumped down in front of it, taking some of the books on the shelves with him as he hit the ground. Shaun elbowed Desmond in the ribs.

“Told you it was worth the trip,” he said. “Admit it!”

Desmond couldn’t fight the smile that wormed its way onto his face.

“All right, all right,” he said. “I’ll admit it. This is fun.”

“Say, ‘Shaun, you were right and I was wrong’.”

Desmond rolled his eyes.

“Shaun, you were right and I was wrong.”

“Bloody hell, I wish I had a voice recorder for that,” Shaun remarked with a snap of the fingers. “I would have loved to have made that my ringtone!”

He laughed as Desmond rolled his eyes yet again.


End file.
